


far from home

by bvckys



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 05:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15187970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bvckys/pseuds/bvckys
Summary: post infinity war.peter parker and bucky barnes become the friendship duo nobody saw coming.bucky tells peter about he and steve rogers before they ended up crumbling to dust.





	1. jesus?

soul world ; pt 1

it’s warm. bright. the sounds of soft murmurs fill his ears. he doesn’t have the strength to open his eyes yet. 

his body hurts. it feels...airy. light. like the wind might blow him away. but also achy and shaky. 

“hey, kid.” a voice says now. it’s low, sort of raspy. close to him, louder than anticipated. he jumps a little, opening one eye at a time. 

peter blinks, confused. a man stands above him, leaned over with a hand outstretched. his left arm is behind his back. 

the mans eyes are wide open. ocean blue, deep and fond. friendly. his dark hair sways with the breeze, parts of it covering his face. 

“jesus?” peter asks carefully. the man looks like every church painting he’d ever seen. 

am i dead? is this heaven? peter thinks. 

the man chuckles, grabbing peters hand and pulling him upright. “not even close.” 

the left arm drops from it’s hiding place, winking in the light. it’s dark, lined in gold. metal. 

the flesh hand grabs peters shoulder. “i’m bucky,” the man says. 

the metal arm. the long hair. bucky. 

it clicks into place. 

this is the scary man peter fought at the airport in germany. the man steve rogers was willing to become a criminal for. the one that fought mr. stark in siberia. peter found that out on his own; mr. stark didn’t tell him. mr. stark didn’t tell him about anything that happened after the fight at the airport. after he sent him home, because he didn’t want peter to get hurt. 

mr. stark.

“where is mr. stark?” peter asks, glancing around slowly. “i was just with him.” he turns more frantically now, unable to register the faces around him. 

“i was with him. i was—i was in pain. everything was hurting. he was crying. the purple guy—“ peter begins to feel dizzy. the world spins around him, the yellow hue of it all burning his eyes. 

“woah, kid. easy there.” bucky grabs both his shoulders this time, the metal arm having a slightly heavier impact. although bucky did his best to be gentle with it. 

“you’re safe kid, we’re okay. lost, but okay, i think. i’m just as confused as you are,” bucky says quietly. 

“where are we?” peter asks, his voice getting caught in his throat. he wants to cry. he wants to go home. 

“the last place i was—i was with mr. stark. and those guardian guys. we were on another planet, and people started—“ peter stops. 

the “guardian guys” he had fought with were standing right behind bucky, frowns on their faces. the one with the antennas look like they’d been crying. 

“disappearing,” bucky finishes for him. “last thing i remember was looking at steve, and the look on his face,” bucky murmurs. “he looked scared.” 

peter thinks back to the last thing he could remember. 

then everything hits him full force. everyone around him began to fade. to fall apart. to turn to dust. 

he remembers the sickening feeling he got in his stomach. like his insides were dissolving. he was confused, and in lots of pain. 

he remembers tony looking at him, scared with tears in his eyes, telling him he was alright, kid. 

he remembers falling into tony’s arms, hardly able to hold himself up. his legs felt like jello. his mind swam back to just after germany, when he tried to pull the ferry back together. mr. stark came to the rescue. peter yelled at him, told him if you cared, you’d actually be here. 

mr. stark was there. he was there and he was scared. scared peter’d hurt himself. told him if you die, i feel like that’s on me. 

he remembers telling tony he was sorry, tears streaming down his cheeks as he felt his body fall to pieces. 

peter looks up to bucky now, his face hot as tears threaten to emerge again. “are we dead?” 

bucky, to peter, seemed like the kind of guy who had his crap together. who didn’t let anything faze him. who never let anything make him upset. but that was before. before peter met him. before now. 

now, buckys eyes are swimming. like a dam threatening to overflow. to bust. to pour out and flood everything in its path. 

“i’m not sure, kid.”


	2. something else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so you’re the spiderkid?

footsteps sound behind him. peters heart jumps, and he wipes at his eyes, then sniffles as quietly as he can. 

the person sits down beside him, the sound of shoes kicking dirt hits peters ears. he looks over to see bucky tucking a piece of dark hair behind his ear and staring out beyond them. 

the land ahead is flat, but not barren. its beautiful. giant fields of flowers and tall trees encompasses the area around them. it’s like a giant plain of endless colors. 

if peter wasn’t so confused, he’d say it was breathtaking. 

bucky brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin on one knee. neither say anything for a while. 

peter wishes he knew where aunt may was. he thinks back to the last time he saw her, before he ditched the bus and followed tony stark onto an alien ship. 

before they went to a foreign planet and fought an ugly purple thumb and — 

“so you’re the spider kid—spider—spiderling? what do you call yourself?” bucky asks. 

usually peter would get annoyed and correct whoever asked, even though it’s only been asked once. but peter laughs. a quiet, painful laugh. “spiderman,” he replies with a weak smile. 

“you’re the kid who caught my arm,” bucky continues. “the kid who shoots webs from—from where? your fingers?” he turns his head, still hugging his knees, and examines peter. he’s in a new suit this time. the latest and greatest one mr. stark made for him. 

peter raises his eyebrows. “oh, actually—“ he lifts his wrists and shows bucky the part of his suit the webs come out of. bucky looks fascinated. peter moves his hand to show bucky how he would shoot the webs, hitting a tall sunflower with his webs. bucky chuckles a little. 

“did you make this?” bucky asks, gesturing very vaguely to all of peter. 

“no, uh—mr. stark made my suit. i designed the webs,” peter explains simply. he goes on to tell bucky that his suit has a voice, that her name was karen, and that he had different webs for different occasions. 

“i also have taser webs, but i dont think i was supposed to find out about those,” peter says. “i dont use them, though.” 

the two fall back into silence after peter tells bucky about the spider bite, and how everything changed for him. 

the people around them start to spread out, searching for something that makes sense, exploring this place none of them have seen before. 

there are lots of people. most, all, peter doesn’t know. none of the faces look familiar except for the guardians, who have disappeared someplace else and peter doesn’t feel like looking for them. he doesn’t even know their names. he can’t remember them. 

“hey, look kid, i’m sorry—“ bucky starts. he almost looks confused with himself. “i’m sorry if i hurt you. if we hurt you. back at the airport.” 

peter glances his way, but bucky isn’t looking at him. bucky is looking at his boots, picking at the grass beneath them. 

bucky was a hard character to read. he was closed off, quiet, confusing. then again, today was the first time peter had actually met the guy. 

“don’t worry about it,” peter replies surprisingly cheerily. “it’s nothing.” 

“nothing?” bucky asks incredulously. “steve dropped an airport ramp on you!”

peter shrugs. “i caught it.”

bucky chuckles lightly, before going quiet again. 

peter wonders what’s going on in buckys head. he wonders if he’s thinking of his family, if he has any left. he wonders if he’s thinking about steve. 

maybe steve is the only family bucky has. 

or had. 

“you’re a super solider, aren’t you?” peter asks now. he asks questions because he doesn’t like to be left out of the equation. he doesn’t like to be confused. 

bucky inhales, face still unreadable. “of sorts.” 

bucky thinks back to 1943. to steve lying on his many enlistment forms. to following captain america, his steve rogers, into the jaws of death. he thinks of the freight car, and to what should’ve been the end of his life. 

what he got in return was worse than a thousand deaths. 

bucky shudders, willing the thought to go away, that now wasn’t the time, that maybe he could tell peter the story another time. 

peter notices bucky start to get shifty, uncomfortable, and switches to a lighter topic. 

“what’s steve like?” he asks now. he asks because he hasn’t gotten the luxury of spending time with the legendary steve rogers. he’s only ever fought him, snatched his shield and caught a ramp from being dropped onto him. pretty legendary, right?

peter was good with forgiving others. 

bucky smiles, and peter swears he almost catches him blush. “steve is—steve—steve is something else.”

peter smiles openly at bucky, nudging him with his shoulder. bucky shakes his head as he tries to make his smile go away. 

“steve and i have been friends for a very long time,” bucky says, thinking back to a very old memory, to what seems like it came from a different lifetime. “it was 1925—“

peter prepares himself for a really long story. one he’s willing to sit through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steve is,, steve is something else.


	3. 1925

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —a machine that was designed to follow orders and not ask questions.

“—i had been running around the back alleys of downtown brooklyn with my sister, rebecca.” bucky stops after the name slips off his tongue, the look in his eyes growing distant. but he pulls himself right back. “this group of boys, maybe three or four of them, were chasing this kid down the alley, and all over the place. i decided to go have a look, so i hid behind a dumpster and peeked out from the side.”

the brunette smiles softly. “the boys were yelling at each other, asking ‘where’d he go?’ and ‘how’d you lose him?’. the boys took off around a corner when i heard someone sneeze. sneeze, of all things.” bucky shifts so he could illustrate his story with hand motions. 

“i hear another sneeze, so i flip open the dumpster lid, and found this skinny blonde kid sitting in the corner.”

peter scrunches his nose at the thought. bucky notices and continues. 

“it was empty, obviously. probably cleaned out that morning, but i cant remember that much,” he says with a wave of his flesh hand. “the kid looked up at me absolutely terrified.”

i look down into the dumpster, resisting the urge to gag. my eyes widen when i see a skinny kid in the corner, hands over his head, eyes bright and scared. 

i hear the footsteps come again. those boys are back, and they’re looking for this kid, whoever he is. i just know it. 

without hesitating, i jump up and swing my legs over until i fall into the dumpster, quietly setting the lid down as darkness engulfed us both. i fall into the spot right next to the kid, shushing him even though he hadn’t made a single noise since i heard him sneeze. 

the footsteps were closer now, louder, until they were right next to us. but they didn’t stop, they just kept going. i peeped my head out to make sure the coast was clear, then gestured for the kid to follow me. 

i shoved the lid wide open, trying to be as quiet as possible in case those boys were still close by. i let the blond get out first, wincing as i watched him struggle to get his tiny legs up and over. i wondered how he even got in here in the first place. 

then i hopped out after him, watching as he dusted his hands off on his jeans. his hair stuck up in every single direction, dirt plastered to his chin and his neck. his eyes stood out amongst everything else. bright, baby blue orbs with specks of green in them. 

i smiled at him. he looked at me confused when i held out my left hand to him. 

he grabbed it finally, gave it a weak shake before i told him my name. “im james! but i’d rather you’d just call me bucky,” i said happily. 

the kid was slow to smile. “i’m steve, but you can just call me—steve, i guess,” he laughed quietly. 

“that’s how i met the great steven grant rogers,” bucky finishes proudly. his eyes shine, but from this angle, peter can’t tell if its pride or sadness reflecting off his ocean eyes. 

“ever since then, i’ve always been the one saving him from fights and keeping him from picking new ones every other second of the day,” bucky shakes his head. “he never knew when to quit, picking fights with whoever he could. anyone who said a mean thing or anyone who he thought deserved it.” 

a pause. 

“i always admired him for that. his bravery and the fact that he would always do what was right, no matter the consequences,” bucky sighs. “including the time he let scientists experiment on him, even though it might’ve killed him, because he wanted to be able to fight for his country.” 

peter listens with wide eyes. every word sinks into his head, replacing his earlier sadness with a new fondness for the two men that were steve rogers and bucky barnes. he admires them and the relationship they have. 

“i was drafted, you know,” bucky says suddenly. “didn’t enlist into the army. didn’t want any part of it. i wanted to stay with my family, with steve. don’t get me wrong, i wanted to protect my country, but i had different visions for myself.” 

peters heart drops.

“it always baffled me how much steve wanted to fight. we grew up with him telling me he wanted to be in the army. he wanted to protect his country and he wanted to stand up against bullies,” bucky said shakily. “it’s like we were born in the wrong bodies. he wanted to get out there, but they wouldn’t let him because of all his sicknesses. he was the smallest kid i’d ever, and will ever meet in my whole life. he was always sick. and then there was me, healthy and in good condition, but i didnt want to get out there and do any of that.”

bucky looks like he wants to say more, like he almost starts another sentence, but stops himself short. 

“steve and i—i always wanted—i always thought—“ bucky looks frustrated now, unsure of what to say next. instead of saying anything at all, he shakes his head and goes quiet again. 

“yes, i am a super soldier. but not like steve. he was made for good, and i wasnt. i was taken, made into a machine—“ bucky lifts his metal arm, giving it a look of disgust, and puts it back down. “—a machine that was designed to follow orders and to not ask questions. they took everything from me—“

peter feels his breath catch in his throat. he doesn’t want bucky to say or talk about anything he was uncomfortable with. 

so peter tries to stop him. he places his hand, still guarded with his suit, around buckys shoulder and gives him a squeeze. he hears bucky sniffle. 

“they took steve away from me, and i thought it was over when i got him back, when i got myself back,” bucky grinds out bitterly, voice sounding sticky with an oncoming cry. “then i had to lose him again. and i dont know where we are, or what’s going on, or what to do—“

“hey, hey, bucky, please don’t do this to yourself,” peter says quietly. “i’m sorry. i didnt mean to get you off onto a subject that was sensitive. please don’t cry, because then i’ll cry, and i’m just—just—“

bucky wipes a hand across his face, letting his hair shield him from peters eyes. 

“we’re going to be okay. all of us. we’ll see them again soon and it’ll all be okay again.” 

it isn’t like peter to be the comforter when usually he’s the comforted, but it feels nice to calm someone down, to try and bring them peace. 

them. steve. tony. aunt may. everyone left behind. 

“they’ll come for us. we’ll see them soon. it’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how’d steve get into that dumpster, anyhow?


	4. stevie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ever since the first day i saw steve, i knew i wanted to protect him.

“and ned turned off the training wheels protocol because, obviously, i asked him to and because i’m not a baby anymore—“

peter tells the story like it happened just last week, when really it was two years ago. a lot had happened between then and now. 

“and then i learned the glowy thing was actually a bomb—“

bucky shoots him a weird look but peter doesn’t notice. 

“—and then i had to save them from the building falling apart! and then i learned liz’s dad was the bad guy—“

bucky listens intently to the story, as wild as it sounds. he doesn’t ask questions. he doesn’t cut him off. he just listens. 

peter and bucky are sitting in the same spot. peter had let him recover from the earlier topic before talking about his homecoming endeavors. 

“—but you can’t tell mr. stark about us turning off the training wheels protocol,” peter tells bucky frantically. “he probably already knows but he doesn’t need to know that you know.” then bucky smiles at him, chuckling ever so softly as his head swims. 

“you remind me of steve,” bucky tells him now. this catches peter off guard. he clamps his hands together, eager to hear the explanation. never had he felt so honored to hear such a compliment. 

bucky purses his lips. “back at the airport, i had one goal and that was to just fight until steve and i had the chance to get away. i didnt plan on hurting anyone—too seriously, that is—and i definitely didn’t plan on meeting a kid.” 

peter looks down. he has a feeling he knows what’s coming. he doesn’t want to hear bucky tell him mr. stark was crazy for bringing him to a fight, superhero against superhero. 

“when you caught my arm, i was surprised, sure—“ bucky glances at the bionic arm. “—but your voice was what caught me off guard.”

peter thinks back to that day. how giddy he felt because, wow, he just caught a super soldiers punch and it didn’t even hurt, and because he stole captain america’s shield. he was with the avengers, fighting them or otherwise. 

he remembers the stunned look on the winter soldiers—no, buckys— face when he stopped his punch dead in the air. peter knows bucky had his other hand free, probably could’ve knocked him into next tuesday, but something stopped him just for a second. 

“it caught me off guard because you were just a kid. you are a kid. i heard your voice, the confidence and the lack of your sense of danger, and all i could think about was little steve in a back alley in brooklyn getting his ass kicked even though he swore he could do it all day.” bucky grins at peter now, but his eyes were shadowed with guilt. “you’re just like him in that sense. always ready to go, ready to fight, reckless and willing to jump into anything.”

peters cheeks grew hot. he didn’t know if he should be ashamed or—

“it’s not something to be ashamed of,” bucky says gently. peter turns to him quickly. “it’s some of the many features about steve rogers that i lo—admire. that i admire about him.”

peter pretends not to notice the stutter. he wants to get up and yell off a cliff, tell the whole world bucky barnes says i’m just like captain america! 

bucky sighs, a painful grin on his face. “ever since the first day i saw steve, i wanted to protect him. i wanted to look out for him, you know?” 

peter nods a little too enthusiastically. 

“and that’s what i did. that’s what i wanted to do for the rest of my life. because i—because i wanted him to be safe.”

bucky isn’t looking at peter anymore. he’s sitting cross cross now, arms in his lap. bucky does everything except for look at peter, who’s staring at him so intently he swears he knows what he’s going to say next. 

“when i first met him, i wanted to think of him like a little brother. but something changed after about four years of knowing him.”

there it was. 

“i was twelve years old when my view on steve rogers changed. we were with sarah in their living room, like we did most nights. i spent a lot of time with steve, whether it was his house or mine,” bucky smiles at the thought. his breathing was shaky, and he just hoped he could remember the whole story. 

“steve asked her how she knew she was in love with his dad,” bucky whispers. peter smiles softly, noticing the blush growing on buckys cheeks. bucky inhales sharply before continuing. 

“well, steve, i think i knew when i started looking at him differently. when i looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. when i realized i could listen to him talk forever.“ 

my breath catches in my throat. 

steve is grinning at his mother, unable to sit still as he taps his foot on the ground. my eyes rise from his tapping foot to his face. he looks entranced with her story. 

“i knew because he made my heart nearly jump out of my chest.”

my heart is pounding. the words sink into my head. 

“i knew when i realized i would do anything for him, when i realized i wanted to spend an eternity with him.”

i turn my gaze from steve to sarah. she’s looking at me now. i can hardly breathe when the realization hits me. 

i feel like i’m going to cry. 

i turn back to steve, and my heart melts. he stares at his mother with complete fascination, his lazy smile enveloping his entire face. 

my heart knocks on my chest, and i smile at steve even though he doesn’t see. i smile because i realize. i realize maybe he did hang the stars in the sky, or maybe he’s the sun itself, shining brighter than everyone else and dulling them out. 

with my smile comes tears. 

“boys, i want you to know you can love whoever you want. i want you to find someone and love them with all you’ve got, regardless of who they are.” 

i meet sarah’s eyes as a single tear falls. my smile falls and my heart feels heavy. 

boys aren’t supposed to love other boys, are they? is that allowed? is it okay?

will sarah hate me?

the questions answer themselves when sarah tells us it’s okay to love whoever we want. 

later that night, after dinner, it’s time for me to go home. i was hardly able to shake the feeling from earlier away. 

sarah pulls me aside just before i leave, where steve couldn’t see. she leans down and wraps her arms around me in a cozy embrace. my tears came much more violently and quickly this time. my sobs were drowned my her words. 

“it’s okay to love him, james. it’s okay to love whoever you want. don’t let anyone stop you from loving who makes you happy, okay?” she pulled away, hands on my shoulders. she makes me look her in the eyes. she and steve look very familiar. 

i nod my head and sniffle softly. my worry is wiped away with those simple words. 

because if sarah rogers doesn’t hate me, still loves me, maybe steve will too. 

i wipe away the tears and head out the door. steve tells after me and gives me a hug. “see ya later, bucky!” he says happily. i hug him back with just as much enthusiasm. 

“catch you tomorrow, stevie!” i yell as i leave. 

i walk home that night with extra hop in my steps. my heart feels lighter, steve’s face swimming in my head with a soft smile dancing on my face. 

“that was the day i realized the way i loved him wasn’t so brotherly,” bucky smiles with his lips pursed together. peter is grinning now, palms of his hands resting on his cheeks. 

“i knew it,” peter says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was the day i realized the way i loved him wasn’t so brotherly


	5. fallen empire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he’s good like that.

“i found steve in a backalley on my way home in the summer one time,” bucky gushes out another story. peter isn’t complaining. bucky is a good storyteller. 

plus, he would never pass up on hearing about another great adventure between steve rogers and bucky barnes. 

“i yanked that guy around and punched him right in the nose, giving steve time to get a runnin’ start, you know?” bucky chuckles. “we both started runnin’ down the street, fast as we could, laughin’ and peekin’ over our shoulders.”

“the guy was comin’ after us. he was catching up, too, because stevie boy was a little slow, even at sixteen.” buckys words flow out with such ease, calming him down and bringing back memories of when times were good. he’s amazed he can remember it all. 

he and steve had gone over stories and things like that back in wakanda after siberia happened. 

“we knew our way around a little better than that guy did, we hid around the corner as he passed us, then we called out after him and took off down the road again. steve reached the water first somehow, and jumped right in,” bucky explains, hands outstretched as he tries to paint a picture for peter to see in his head. 

“i jumped in after him. let me tell you, we were lucky it was the middle of june.” 

peter watches with fascination. the world seemed so different back then. so much simpler and calmer. but peter supposes it was the exact opposite, seeing as—bucky said steve was 16?—it was around 1934 and the world was in chaos. 

but for steve and bucky at the time, nothing else mattered except for each other. 

bucky tells peter about steve’s first bike, and how he wrecked it later on when he was looking at bucky and not the road ahead. bucky had taken steve home that day and fixed him up, with his road burns and scratches up and down his legs and one of his arms. 

he tells peter about his sister and how amazing she was. how much she loved steve and how many friends she had. bucky tells peter she was way cooler than him, even though all the girls wanted to get with him and all the guys wanted to be his friend. 

bucky tells peter about coney island and that time he made steve ride some ride he couldn’t remember the name of, and steve threw up when he got off. he tells peter about the time bucky had spent their train money on a game to win a girl a prize. or did steve spend it all on hotdogs? bucky can’t really remember, but the story makes peter happy anyway. 

bucky goes quiet, a small smile on his features. bucky looks good when he smiles, because it happens so rarely. but today, for the past few hours or however long they’d been here, he had smiled more than he had in a long time. the only time he smiled more than this, was when he and steve were watching vine compilations made my shuri. 

bucky had a hard time understanding the humor of this generation, but it was funny either way. 

bucky looks at peter now. he makes a guess that peter and shuri are about the same age. “you and shuri would get along real well,” he tells him. 

peter glances at him, eyebrows disappearing in his hair. “who’s that?”

“t’challa’s sister.”

“who’s that?”

bucky stares at him for a second. then his brows scrunch together. 

“the black panther?”

“the—“ now peters eyes widen. “oh. oh! okay. yeah.” peter nods his head a little. he can hardly remember the black panther, only because the first and last time he saw him was at the airport. even then, he hadn’t seen his face and hadn’t even spoken to him. 

wait. 

“didn’t he try to kill you?” peter asks, eyeing bucky from the side. 

bucky freezes, purses his lips together. “well—yeah. yeah he did.”

peter waits for an explanation. 

“he thought i killed his dad.”

peters eyes widen even more than before. 

“the signing of the accords. there was a bomb placed outside he building. the guy who put it there have face prosthetics to make himself look like me,” bucky looks in peters eyes for a second. the smile is gone. 

“he and his buddies wanted to flush my out of hiding. and i guess it worked,” he chuckled bitterly. “they did it so they could take me for psychological evaluation. the guy that was supposed to do it was killed and the guy who was there actually killed him to get to me.”

bucky looks at his hands in his lap. 

“he wanted to see an empire fall.”

peter gives him a questioning look. he knew bucky and steve fought mr. stark but he had no idea why. 

bucky knows peter is curious, and he decides to tell him the story. what harm can it do? it was two years ago. peter deserves to know, anyway. maybe. 

“zemo was his name. he didn’t like the avengers. he hated them because his family died in sokovia, which is another story entirely. he—he used footage of me—of the winter soldier—killing tony starks parents. he showed it to us in siberia. to get us to fight against each other.” 

bucky looks at peter now, sadness in his eyes again. bucky had felt every single emotion while sitting here with peter, however long they’d been here. 

“but that’s in the past. maybe when we see stark—tony—it’ll be okay again.” bucky shrugs. he doesn’t like to think about siberia. the things steve and he did for one another. to protect each other. 

“it all makes sense now,” peter whispers. bucky slowly turns his head to the boy, brows scrunched together. 

“what?” bucky asks. 

“why steve did what he did to mr. stark. why he became a criminal,” peter explains slowly. the pieces click together in his head. “it was for you. to protect you. you both have spent so long fighting to get each other back, i imagine any of us—with that amount of love—would do the same.”

bucky is astonished. this kid is smart. sympathetic. thoughtful. 

“he did it because he loves you.”

peter is staring at bucky, lips parted slightly. he sees it now, the whole picture. nearly all of it. everything steve rogers did was for bucky. 

bucky blushes now, hardly ashamed under the eyes of the young boy. he doesn’t try to hide it. “yeah,” he says softly. “he’s good like that.”


	6. took you long enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i guess when it’s your favorite person, it doesn’t matter.

the setting sun shines on their faces, warming them up despite the ever present empty feeling inside of them both. still, peter feels like he might blow away. like maybe his suit was what was holding him down. 

bucky doesn’t want to admit, but thinking about steve as much as he had today made the pain of missing him so much worse. thinking about everything before all this. 

before. 

before this space war, before living in a hidden country, before returning to the place that held him captive for 65 years. 

before zemo and before germany. before living in romania for two years, trying desperately to understand who he was. 

before. 

before he jumped into the water to save captain america. 

before steve’s im with you til the end of the line. 

before pierce told him he had shaped the century. 

before having his own arm cut off, replaced with a weapon of complete and total destruction. a weapon of mass murder and a symbol of what he was. 

not who, no, he wasn’t allowed an identity there. 

before falling off the freight car. 

before the war. 

when he was young, with dreams and a vision of his future. when he saw his family everyday. 

bucky wishes he knew where they were. 

but right now, steve is all he can think about. peters next question makes it worse. 

“what’s it like kissing a boy?”

peter sits with his legs criss crossed on the ground next to bucky, palms placed on his cheeks. bucky was leaned back on his arms, legs outstretched. 

bucky thanks the setting sun for hiding his growing blush. he purses his lips together for a split second. the answer comes out without any thought. 

“i guess when it’s your favorite person it doesn’t make a difference.”

peter giggles a little. “how long have you been waiting to say that line?”

bucky shoots him a glare. “the answer you’re looking for is, oh, around 80 years? but honestly it just came to me.”

peter was soaking up buckys stories like a sponge. anything to keep his mind off what was happening. 

“how did your first kiss go?”

“my first kiss was with a girl, on a dare,” bucky grins with the shake of his head. “but i know what you’re asking.” 

my knuckles burned. my throat burned. even my blood burned. spots blurred my vision. 

get your faggot disease away from me, he said. 

your family wouldn’t even let you kiss them if they knew, he said. 

you should be ashamed of yourself, the other one said. 

i was fifteen, about to be sixteen, and this was the first time i’d ever experienced rage as burning hot and brutal as this. 

i didnt even have time to process how upset it had made me. i just started swinging. 

in a backalley in the darker parts of brooklyn, no one would ever know i’d gotten my ass kicked that day. 

i had just gone out for a walk, to breathe and enjoy the dark quiet by myself when the boys from school came out of nowhere. 

the things they said, none of it registered until the first punch was thrown. 

by me, of course. 

i was thankful rebecca wasn’t there. for her safety and my pride. 

by nearly sixteen, i was tall. i was in good enough shape. i’d gotten in many fights before, for steve. i’d taken many hits for him, but these hits were for me. directed at me on purpose. 

how they knew i had a crush on steve, i had no idea. the only one that knew was sarah rogers herself. 

the pain was numbed with my fist connected with the bigger kids nose. they were both taller than i was. older and stronger. baseball players arms and football players muscles. i had neither. 

i couldnt remember their names. only the fact that i had gotten at least four good hits in before one of their knees connect with my stomach. 

it sent me to the ground, groaning and ready to get back up when another foot connected with my sides. arms, legs, head. 

i didnt feel physical pain until after. all i felt was rage. 

“hey! you boys leave him alone!” i heard a voice say. it was deep, authoritative, but almost like it was faked. 

then the rocks came. whoever yelled started to chunk stones at either the boys or all three of us. 

they ran off, cursing and smacking each other over the head. telling each other they better not get caught. 

i just lay on the ground, staring at the sky as the pain settled in. footsteps came, echoing in my head as i tried to force myself up in case i had to fight again. 

“bucky?” familiarity of the voice gave me warmth. i spit blood onto the ground before looking up at exactly who i wanted to see. 

“steve? what are you doing out here so late?” i asked. 

the blond boy stares down at me, his hands knotted together as he gazed at me nervously. “i could ask you the same thing,” he said. he didn’t smile. 

steve gave me a hand to grab, even though i’d yank him to the floor if i pulled too hard. i winced when i was finally on my feet. 

there was pain everywhere. 

“what happened?” he asked me gently, swiping my hair out of my face. i tried to ignore my heart thumping hard in my chest. 

“nothin’, don’t worry,” i said a little too quickly. 

steve pulled my arm over his shoulder and tried to help me walk. i could walk on my own but i wasnt going to complain. “don’t lie to me, bucky,” he said flatly. 

“i was defending myself. those boys came outta nowhere while i was mindin’ my own business. they said some stuff that pissed me off—“

“bucky! what’d i tell you about jumping into fights?” steve asked, pulling me forward faster than i expected. 

i scoffed at him. “you’re one to talk!” i shoved his shoulder a bit so he knew i was messing around, but regretted it instantly. 

he gave me a look of worry, but i didnt say anything. i just pursed my lips to keep my complaining at bay. i didnt need steve worrying about me. 

i was happy he didn’t ask anymore questions about what happened. 

steve took me to his house, which wasn’t too far, thankfully. 

it was late. very late. sarah was probably asleep. 

why was steve out?

the boy unlocked his door and took me inside a place i knew so well. i gripped my side when i asked, “what were you doing out so late?” 

steve didn’t look at me directly. he led me to his bathroom and dug through the cabinet to snatch his supplies he’d used so many times before to fix me up. 

i sat on the edge of the bathtub, still patiently waiting for an answer. he turned around with things in his hands. he knelt down in front of me on one knee, which was almost a hilarious sight. “steve?” i pressed. 

the boy set his stuff down and shoved my hair out of my face. “i was looking for you,” he said finally. “i just wanted—i guess i just kinda wanted to be with you.” he paused. “to be around you. to hang out,” he recovered quickly. 

i tried not to notice his growing blush while trying to hide my own. 

get your disease away from me, the voice rang through my head. 

“couldn’t sleep?” i whispered, leaning my head to the side as he wiped away blood from various places on my face and hands. 

“nope,” steve replied quickly. 

steve had nightmares sometimes. often about his alcoholic father even i couldnt save him from. 

i angled my head to look into his baby blue eyes. just like sarah’s. “i help you sleep?” i teased. 

the corner of his mouth tipped up in a half smile. “i guess so.” 

your family wouldn’t even let you kiss them if they knew, my brain screamed now. 

“aw, stevie, are you blushing?” i prodded at him as the pain subsided. if i could just—

“jerk,” he smirked and pushed me back. it didn’t even hurt. his blush grew even more, all the way to his ears. 

it would be so easy. just push forward and kiss him. he wasn’t too far from my face. close enough we could feel each other’s heat radiating from one another. 

sure, steve had cleaned me up after a fight plenty times. but this time was different. 

you’re allowed to love whoever you want, sarah told me once.

my heart was pounding. he looked so soft in his bathroom lighting. 

steve chewed his lip. “bucky?” he whispered. 

i smiled gently and leaned forward with my lips partly slightly. i’d kissed a girl before, but it was on a dare. this was different. this was real. 

and then our lips touched, molding together like a perfect puzzle. and to my delight, steve actually kissed me back. 

his hand found my cheek and he smiled against my lips. i couldve stayed there forever. 

we pulled apart too soon. i wanted to go back for more. 

“took you long enough,” steve giggled.


	7. not so scary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i thought we were two stepping?

“i always tried to get steve to dance with me,” bucky laughs now. he remembers asking steve to dance with him for the first time when they were fourteen. it was about six months before the kiss. “he was the worst dancer ever and never let me teach him.” 

peter laughs aloud, eyes creasing and leaning back on his hands. it didn’t seem realistic that steve rogers couldn’t dance. “i cant dance either!” peter exclaims. bucky rolls his eyes at him. 

“you serious? how many dances you been to?” bucky asks the boy. peter shrugs with a smile. “not enough, apparently.”

“never had someone to dance with?” bucky presses on. peter shakes his head. 

“that’s insane.”

“maybe when we go back home i’ll take some lessons,” peter says innocently. bucky breaks eye contact with the kid and inhales sharply. 

“i finally got the chance to dance with steve not too long ago in wakanda,” bucky whispers. he’s looking down now, at his hands. he tries to ignore the way the metal one shined sunset light right into his eyes. 

peter glances at him as he prepares himself for another story. 

“you’re 100 years old and you still don’t know how to dance?” i ask, mouth open in shock. 

steve scoffs at me and rolls his eyes. “it’s not my fault you never taught me.”

it was my turn to scoff. “excuse me, stevie boy, but i’m pretty sure i asked on many occasions if you would dance with me and you turned me down everytime because you didn’t know how.” 

steve stares at me now, contemplating his next response. when he says nothing, i straighten myself and cross my arms. steve tilts his head to the side. 

his hair falls into his eyes, getting unruly and strangely long for his taste. long hair was my thing. at least, it is now. we used to be so clean cut. 

i try to ignore the way his eyes shine underneath his crazy long eyelashes. the sun was nearly under the horizon by now, lighting up one side of our bodies and giving his eyes extra glisten. 

i smirk and bow down just a little, tucking my left arm behind my back and outstretching my right one with my palm up. i look up at steve and wait for him to get the hint. 

steve purses his lips together before placing his hand in mine with a confused look on his face. i straighten up now, lacing our fingers together and placing the metal hand gently on his shoulder. 

steve’s empty hand hovered in the air for a second, eyes glancing between my shoulder and my hip. i wonder if he’s scared to touch the cold metal. 

his hand finds its place right where it belongs on my hip. then he looks at me and smiles. 

steve opened his mouth and said, “i hope i dont step on your toes.”

i shake my head and laugh a little. “you’re bare foot. it won’t hurt too bad.” 

“i’ve gained about 150 pounds since we last tried to dance. i think stepping on your toes would hurt a little more now,” steve replies softly as he turns his eyes to our feet.

i start to lead him in a simple two step dance. “back two, forward one,” i whisper. “you’re not the only super soldier in the room,” i say as i smirk at him. he only rolls his eyes. 

one, two, one. 

“i thought this was two stepping?”

“it is, steve.”

“this is three steps.”

“hush.”

i want to tilt his face upwards and make him look at me, but my free hand is nothing but bitter metal. i bite my lip and step a little closer to him. 

he’s taller than me now, which is okay. everything about him is okay. before and now. 

steve looks up from our feet, starting to get the hang of the stepping pattern. 

“i guess you kinda have to look up to me now, huh?” steve teases. it’s like he read my mind. the benefits of being slightly shorter is that i get to admire every feature on his face from a whole new perspective. 

i smile at him and squeeze his hand. “i’ve always looked up to you.” 

steve blinks, caught off guard. i laugh and say, “that was kinda cheesy, wasn’t it?” 

steve grins and leans towards me, missing my toes just barely. then our lips connect and i can feel my cheeks heat up. 

just as soft as i remember. 

sure, we’d kissed between now and after germany. only in private. it’s not like our relationship was secret. everyone knew, but steve liked to be private i guess. 

this was much more special, though. 

the sky was red and purple as the sun disappeared even more. steve and i were in pajamas shuri picked out for us. matching blue and white striped pants and both of us had the softest shirts we owned on. 

i never appreciated the fact that i could feel with my metal arm until now. when i had the hydra one attached, cords and wires were connected to things that made it work like an actual arm. it was more than a prosthetic. a weapon like that one couldn’t just fly off if i decided to throw something hard enough. 

this arm, though, was different. made my shuri herself and attached by her, too. it worked the same way, except this one was not just a weapon of destruction. it was part of me. and after having such a thing attached to me for so long, i still had a hard time accepting it as my own. but it signifies something different now. a new version of myself. 

i shriek when steve’s hand finds its way to exactly where it’s not supposed to be. 

“steve,” i warn. 

“yes?”

“what are you doing?”

“dancing, bucky.”

“that’s not where your hand goes.” 

steve starts laughing, echoing in my ears like a beautiful song. it was my favorite sound. then i started laughing, too. 

steve and i continue dancing after our laughing fit, catching me by surprise when i watched as he steps exactly the way he’s supposed to. we sway now, and i inhale softly before placing my forehead on his shoulder. 

i crack a smile when steve starts singing a song he had heard on shuri’s playlist a while back. 

“put your head on my shoulder,” he starts. “hold me in your arms,”   
“baby,” i join in quietly. “squeeze me oh so tight.”

“tell me—that you love me, too.”

buckys eyes are shining when he finishes the story. peter is smiling at him, envious of what he and steve has. 

“that wasn’t long before this whole space war started,” he chokes out. then he smiles weakly. “i love him.” 

peter smiles openly. “you’re not so scary after all.”


	8. chaotic good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “you’re going to be one of earths best defender.”

“steve?” i yell. “steve!” 

i’m running down the sidewalks, peeking into every alleyway in search of my stubborn mess of a friend. he’s out here somewhere. anytime he goes missing, i can always count on him hiding out by himself, (which was different story) or picking a fight with someone much bigger than him. 

sarah rogers dubbed me as her sons rescuer a long time ago, which is also a whole other story. 

sometimes i think protecting steve was hardwired into my brain a long time ago. perhaps it came to me when i first met him. maybe it’s been there since the beginning, settled in the back of my head, hiding, waiting for the right moment. 

the moment i heard that kid sneeze inside of a dumpster. 

and although i have been searching and saving steve rogers since i was eight years old, it never gets easier, even at sixteen. 

it still makes me nervous when i show up to his house and he isn’t there. i still get sick to my stomach when i search the place and he never appears. 

and even though i have an idea on where he might be, dark thoughts still linger in the back of my head, telling me i might just be too late. 

“steve!” i yell again. as i’m running, i see a blur of people at the very edge of this alleyway. i stop dead, turning around and peeking down. i dont even try to hide. 

sure enough, he’s down there. steven grant rogers in all his glory—on the ground with a bloody nose. 

i sigh heavily as i run as quickly as i can to get to him. the kid beating up on his looks up with absolute terror in his eyes, which was the first in a while. steve’s villains aren’t usually afraid of me. unless they’ve encountered me before. 

the kid is younger than us. smaller than me, but still bigger than poor steve. it’s not hard to be bigger than he is. 

the kid, short and fast, dirty blond hair strung out everywhere, turns and tries to make a run for it. i grab the collar of his shirt before he gets the chance to take off. 

“oh, no you don’t.” i yank the kid around and bust him in the lip one time before shoving him away as hard as i can. i turn to steve only to see him standing and trying to limp after the kid. 

i roll my eyes and grab his arm, my hand completely wrapping around his forearm as i pull him away from the scene. 

“don’t let me catch you hangin’ around here again!” steve yells. his voice isn’t the least bit intimidating, but i admire him for trying. 

“i put up a good fight, buck, oh man. you should’ve seen me! i got a few hits in before anything bad happened!” he tells me excitedly, pulling gently out of my grasp to walk beside me. 

i look down at him, a ghostly smirk on my lips. “what’d i tell you about jumping into fights with people? kids bigger than you?” i tread lightly but he still gets my point. 

i dont ever really get angry at him; it’s impossible. but i do worry. i worry a lot. hes small and people are mean.

steve shrugs, not paying me any mind. i keep my eyes on his as we make our way back down the public streets to his house. to clean him up. again. “he peeked up a girls skirt and she didn’t like it.” 

i didnt know what to say, so i draped my left arm over his shoulders, squeezing him close to me.

“see, people always wanted me to be the bad boy out of the two of us,” bucky chuckles now. peters face is red from laughter.

“steve rogers fought anyone and everyone. he never backed out of a fight. he cusses more than i do, and he could hijack a car and get away with calling it ‘borrowing’,” bucky smirks. 

peter laughs a little, still finding it hard to believe. 

“i see a little bit of him in you, kid,” bucky points at peters chest. his cheeks light up again. “that’s why i know you’ll go far. you’re going to be one of earths best defenders.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a thing i came up with one night crying about bucky. it’s not a full blown story, just a compilation of bucky telling peter parker the stories about he and steve rogers.


End file.
